


Do It #LikeAGirl

by exmanhater



Category: Women's Hockey RPF
Genre: Drunk Sex, F/F, Face-Sitting, Femslash, Fingerfucking, Praise Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-09
Updated: 2015-03-09
Packaged: 2018-03-17 03:31:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,743
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3513698
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/exmanhater/pseuds/exmanhater
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>Hilary spins Gen into the room, both of them laughing and giddy with triumph. Gen flops back on the bed, toeing off her shoes, and grins at Hilary.</i>
</p><p>
  <i>"We're fucking champions, baby," Gen says, or really, croaks. Her throat is sore from screaming and her head is swimming from the literal tons of alcohol she's consumed tonight, but she has no intention of calming down just yet.</i>
</p><p> [Post-Clarkson Cup victory sex]</p>
            </blockquote>





	Do It #LikeAGirl

**Author's Note:**

> The title is courtesy of scintilla10, and I'm very grateful for it :D
> 
> Content notes: There's some under-negotiated kink in this fic that works out just fine, but which should probably have been talked out beforehand in the real world. Also, these characters have consensual sex with each other while fairly drunk. They don't regret it afterward or feel like they were coerced, but your mileage may vary.

Hilary spins Gen into the room, both of them laughing and giddy with triumph. Gen flops back on the bed, toeing off her shoes, and grins at Hilary.

"We're fucking champions, baby," Gen says, or really, croaks. Her throat is sore from screaming and her head is swimming from the literal tons of alcohol she's consumed tonight, but she has no intention of calming down just yet.

"Fucking right we are," Hilary shouts, then shushes herself with an exaggerated finger, giggling helplessly. Her hair has escaped her ponytail again, and the long strands keep getting in her eyes.

Gen laughs, too, watching Hilary push her hair back and stumble across the room after shutting the door. They are both so drunk, on shots and on victory, and Gen has no idea what time it actually is, other than late. It's still dark outside, at least, so they haven't quite partied the night away.

"C'mere before you fall and break your neck," Gen says, giving in to the urge to close her eyes, just for a moment.

"I'm a fucking Olympian," Hilary says. "I'm not going to fall. I'm graceful as _shit_."

"Cocky as shit, anyway," Gen says, and opens her eyes to watch how Hilary reacts. It's always a good time.

"It's not cocky if it's true," Hilary says, but she's pouting like Gen just took the Clarkson Cup away from her.

Gen smirks, mostly to herself. This is maybe her favorite non-hockey-related thing about Hilary – when she's sober, she's confident without being a braggart about it, toeing the line between good girl and elite athlete. But when she's drunk, she loses all sense of shame and just revels in herself, and seems to expect everyone else to as well.

"Yeah, okay," Gen concedes. "You're the bomb."

Hilary smiles proudly, like that kind of praise is just her due, and it makes Gen want to – well, it makes her want to kiss that smile off Hilary's face and tell her just how good she really is while Hilary pants and moans.

"Hey," Hilary says, bouncing down on the bed next to Gen, poking her side. "Don't ignore me, pay attention, here."

Gen laughs. Her head is still swimming, but it's the kind of drunk she likes, when everything just feels loose and easy and free without the lack of control that comes with being totally shit-faced. She turns over on her side, facing Hilary. "You want my attention?"

"Of course I do. I deserve it after that game," Hilary says.

"You don't want attention, you want compliments," Gen tells her, leaning closer involuntarily, drawn by the way Hilary's mouth glistens when she licks her lips.

"Yeah, so give me one," Hilary says. She's still grinning, joking, but Gen can see a glimmer of something else in her eyes. Gen wants to push that something, yank until she figures out what it means.

"You're a powerhouse on the ice," Gen says, sincerely. "The way you skate makes me mad as hell when I'm not on your team."

"Oh," Hilary says. Her face gets a bit redder, but she brazens it out. "Yeah, okay. What else?"

"What else?" Gen says. "Your game is hot, but you already know that."

Hilary sways closer to Gen, her breathing just audible. "And? What else do you like about me?"

Gen leans in closer, too, barely a breath away from Hilary's mouth. "You want to know what I like about you?"

"Yup," Hilary says, popping the "p", but her eyes get dark, pupils widening.

Gen feels reckless and powerful, like she can do whatever she wants tonight. She's already won a victory on the ice – what's to say she can't have another one here?

"I like everything about you," she says, voice low, almost whispering into Hilary's neck. "I like the way you go all red and pleased when someone recognizes how good you are and tells you all about it."

"Gen," Hilary breathes her name, and Gen tilts her face up just enough to catch Hilary's lips with hers.

It's soft, just a slow press of lips at first, but Gen waits patiently. She doesn't want to push this part; she only wants this if Hilary wants it, too. She pulls back just a fraction, takes a read on Hilary's expression.

"I – I like everything about you, too," Hilary says, eyes closing as she ducks her head down, like she's embarrassed.

Gen thinks she might be enjoying the rare sight of Hilary being embarrassed about something way too much, but she can't really be bothered to care. Instead, she puts a firm hand on the back of Hilary's neck and pulls her in again, watching her eyes open and focus on Gen's mouth.

"Take what you want," Gen says, and Hilary surges into a new kiss, wet and messy, both their aims not quite perfect, but it all mixes together to make something amazing. Gen opens her mouth and bites at Hilary's lips, shifting until she's straddling Hilary and leaning down to keep the kiss going.

Hilary's hands come up and hold onto her hips, making Gen wish she weren't wearing jeans and could feel those hands on her skin. She breaks the kiss, gasping, and sits up.

"I want to make out with you," she tells Hilary. "But I really want to take off my pants, first."

"Yes, that," Hilary says, sitting up so quickly Gen falls over on the bed, unprepared for the heft of Hilary's thighs lifting her up. They both start laughing again, and Gen's just thinking that maybe they're too drunk to do anything but kiss a little and laugh at themselves when Hilary wriggles to the edge of the bed and pushes her jeans down her thighs, grunting when they get stuck because she didn't bother to unzip them.

"Graceful as shit, hmm?" Gen says, just to be a tease. Hilary's pout returns with a vengeance, and Gen just doesn't have the right defenses for that look. She rolls over on the bed and sits up next to Hilary, helping undo the zipper until the pants can be tugged down Hilary's legs.

"You, too," Hilary says, still pouting. 

Gen shakes her head, but she undoes her own jeans and pushes them down and off. Hilary stares at Gen's legs, her tongue coming out to lick her lips, and that is _it_ \- Gen pushes Hilary back down on the bed, straddling her again and bending close to kiss her roughly, wipe the pout off her face for good.

"Yeah," Hilary says, pulling back for just a moment. Gen closes her eyes when Hilary yanks her back in, mouth devouring hers in a sloppy, wet kiss. Hilary still tastes a bit like whiskey, but it's not unpleasant at all. Gen wants more, so she bites at Hilary's bottom lip and uses her tongue to soothe the sting. Hilary tucks her hands underneath the waistband of Gen's underwear and Gen shivers at the touch.

"Why are we still wearing shirts?" Hilary gasps out, eventually, when they take a break to breathe deeply.

"No clue," Gen says, and twists her arms over her head to pull off her top and her sports bra at the same time. Hilary watches, eyes dark and fixed on Gen's breasts as they're revealed, and then sits up, holding Gen in her lap without hardly any effort. Gen can feel Hilary's thighs flexing underneath her, and she's so distracted by the thought of them that she misses Hilary moving in until Hilary has her mouth on one of Gen's nipples, biting soft and slow into her skin.

"Fuck," Gen says. "Yeah, Hils, that's so good."

Hilary's breath hitches and she switches to Gen's other nipple, working it over just as well until both of Gen's breasts are aching. Her cunt is starting to insist on attention as well; she can feel her slick starting to soak through her underwear.

"I want your mouth," Gen says, long past caring about how she sounds. "Want to know what you can do with your tongue."

Hilary drops her hands from Gen's waist and lets go of Gen's nipple, head shooting up so quickly Gen narrowly misses getting smacked in the face.

"Only if you want that, too," Gen says, taking in Hilary's expression. It looks _wanting_ , but she has to be sure.

"I do," Hilary says. She grins a little, the cockiness back in her voice and in the way her mouth curls up at the corners. "I'm gonna rock your world, babe, I've got skills."

"Prove it, and maybe I'll tell you how good it is," Gen says. She lifts up briefly and starts yanking down her underwear, but she miscalculates her ability to balance on one knee and twists as she falls, landing on her side next to Hilary. "Oops," she says, giggling, and Hilary laughs with her.

"Gonna make it?" Hilary asks, tongue peeking out of her mouth. "I wanted you to sit on my face, but maybe you don't have the coordination for that right now." She takes off her own shirt, leaving her bra, and lays back to rest her head on a pillow, shaking her hand in a "get on with it, then" gesture.

"Fuck you," Gen laughs. "I'll show you coordination!" She gets her underwear off, flinging them off the bed somewhere, and straddles Hilary again, knee-walking up until she can hitch up and lower herself back down, just grazing Hilary's mouth. Bracing herself with her hands on the headboard, she teases herself for a minute, until Hilary's hands are back on her hips, urging her lower.

"I want it," Hilary says, and Gen can't resist that voice, low and rough. She lets Hilary pull her down until Hilary can start licking, tongue pushing deftly between her lips in search of her clit.

"You look so good like this," Gen says, keeping her promise to tell Hilary exactly how good she is at this. "And your tongue, fuck - " Gen cuts herself off with a moan as Hilary presses inside her, tongue pushing insistently.

Hilary moans something that Gen can't make out, not with the way Hilary's mouth is full of her cunt.

"You like hearing that?" Gen says, almost breathless. "You like knowing how crazy you make me?"

Hilary nods, the movement sending sparks of pleasure through Gen. 

"I'm gonna show you how much I like it, okay?" Gen tightens her grip on the headboard and starts moving her hips, taking exactly what she wants, 

Hilary moans again, her hands clutching tighter to Gen's hips, encouraging Gen on, holding her mouth open and tongue steady. Gen swears and works herself on Hilary's tongue, the perfect teasing pressure on her clit until she's just on the cusp of coming, the steady increase in pleasure that means she's just about to tip over.

"I'm going to come all over your perfect fucking face," she manages to say, though she's pretty sure it's not very articulate. "You're so good, letting me take what I want, fuck - _fuck_ \- "

Hilary groans beneath her, keeping her head from moving. Gen shudders one last time and pushes down against that tongue, coming so hard she can hardly see.

Gen finally catches her breath and lifts herself up and off of Hilary. She loses it again when she sees the way Hilary looks, mouth wet and face flushed. Gen sighs and traces a finger around Hilary's mouth, slicking up her finger before pushing it into her own mouth. She sucks it clean, then repeats the movement, but this time she pushes her finger into Hilary's mouth, and Hilary latches on, urging her in deeper and then showily pulling Gen's finger out and licking it clean.

"You are going to goddamn kill me," Gen pants.

"Not before you get me off," Hilary says, eyes wicked with mischief. "I was good, wasn't I?"

Gen watches as Hilary's expression changes from teasing to desperate, tracking the way she licks her lips.

"I deserve payback, don't I?" Hilary says, a note of pleading in her voice.

"You do," Gen says. "You deserve everything, you were so good, Hils, just what I wanted."

"So give it to me," Hilary says, then gasps when Gen pinches one of her nipples through her bra.

"I'm going to," Gen says, and helps Hilary get her bra off, only letting go of her nipple for the bare minimum of time needed. Then Gen lowers her head to bite at Hilary's other nipple, working both of them until Hilary is squirming underneath her. Gen doesn't want to stop - Hilary's breasts are fucking works of art - but Hilary whimpers and tugs at her hand, trying to pull it down to where her underwear isn't doing much to hide how turned on she is. The fabric is almost translucent it's so wet, and Gen can't resist pressing her fingers there, above the fabric right over Hilary's mons. She doesn't use much pressure, just the barest hint of it, and Hilary arches up into it, her body seeking more contact. 

"Fuck," Hilary says. "Jesus Christ, get your fingers in me already!"

Gen smiles, pretty evilly, she's sure, and just keeps lightly stroking Hilary through her underwear, letting her fingers get damp and not letting Hilary have the pressure she so clearly wants.

Hilary moans, but before Gen can give in and start actually fucking her, she clamps down on Gen's hand, trapping it between her thighs.

"Give me what I earned," Hilary says, wrapping her arms around Gen's back and pulling her in for wet, deep kiss.

"I will," Gen says when Hilary lets her go. "I promise, no more teasing."

She pulls down Hilary's underwear and flings it to the side to join hers on whatever spot of floor they landed on. She doesn't care at all about where, just rubs two fingers around the lips of Hilary's cunt, then presses one inside Hilary. They both shudder, and Gen pulls her finger back out and smears Hilary's slick around her lips and over her clit. Hilary jolts like she's been hit with a live electric wire.

"Yeah, c'mon, Gen, fuck me," Hilary urges, tilting her hips up to try and get Gen's finger inside her again. 

Gen doesn't want to wait anymore. She pushes two fingers inside Hilary's cunt and angles her other hand so her thumb and forefinger are providing steady pressure to Hilary's clit. She fucks Hilary fast, but not too hard, until Hilary is moving with her, hips pushing into Gen's hand with more and more pressure. Eventually Gen stops trying to be careful.

Hilary thrashes her head back and forth and puts one of her own hands over Gen's on her clit, pressing down even harder. Gen adjusts, using heavier pressure on Hilary's clit than she could stand on her own, and adds another finger, curling the tips up until she finds an angle that makes Hilary shout.

"Yeah, yeah, there," Hilary says. "Don't fucking stop, Gen, harder." Her eyes are closed tight but the rest of her face is mobile, mouth twisting in concentration as she chases her orgasm.

Gen keeps her hand steady, thankful that she's gotten sober enough to actually keep the rhythm going, and feels Hilary fall apart around her fingers, a steady rush of wetness flooding her hand, Hilary's cunt tightening in an erratic pattern of movement as she comes.

"Mmm, yes," Hilary sighs when it's over, her whole body slack with pleasure. She tries to pat Gen on the back, but misses and taps her side instead. "Good work, good job."

Gen presses a kiss to Hilary's neck, trying to arrange them both comfortably on the bed. "Thank you, captain."

"Ooooh," Hilary says. "Next time, I'm going to have you call me that while I fuck you with a dildo until you're screaming it out loud.

Gen shivers, not sure if she's turned on or just laughing at Hilary's ego. Maybe it's both. "We'll see," she says.

"It's just nice to be able to celebrate victories with you instead of against you," Hilary murmurs a few minutes later, half-asleep and incoherent, but Gen knows exactly what she means. Even though they're technically teammates more often than they're not these days, the Blades sometimes still feel secondary to their national teams.

"Yeah, it is, baby," she tells Hilary, and stays awake as long as she can to watch the satisfied way Hilary is curved around her.

[the end.]


End file.
